


Almost Heaven: Tales From The North Fork

by pinkdiamonds



Series: Tales From The North Fork [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bad Parenting, Child Abuse, Drama, M/M, Partner Betrayal, Romance, Universe Building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-25 16:41:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3817570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkdiamonds/pseuds/pinkdiamonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester has a good life on the East End of Long Island. He's mostly happy and content living among family and friends, and according to the seasons in a semi rural environment.  There comes a day when he decides to make some changes, never realizing there is something vital missing in his life that is keeping him from true happiness. </p><p>When Dean meets a blue-eyed stranger, he comes to the realization that he has been waiting for his life to begin and he finds all he needs for true happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost Heaven: Tales From The North Fork

**Author's Note:**

> This is a standalone story.
> 
> Although characters from two other fandoms do show up, it is not necessary to know anything about them or their respective canons. This is the story of how Dean and Castiel meet and fall in love. There is one instance of physical child abuse, but it isn't at all graphic. Neither Dean nor Castiel cheat on each other.
> 
> I have included a Cast of Characters for those that may be interested as to how various characters fit into this universe. I admit that this story is total self indulgence on my part. I adore this universe and have wanted to revisit it since I left it. I love this part of the world, and even though it’s somewhat romanticized, most of my descriptions are completely accurate. I’m sad to say Dragon’s Nest exists only in my imagination.
> 
> Dean and Castiel’s story could be considered the first story in Book Two of the Barking Dog Winery Universe.
> 
> The title reflects my feelings about the East End of Long Island and not the John Denver song. (Although I love the song.)
> 
> Cover art by Astroskylark

###  

### Cast of characters/places

John Winchester, alcoholic father of Dean and Sam Winchester.

Dean Winchester, eldest son of John and Mary (deceased) Winchester. Owns and runs Bobby’s Garage along with Bobby Singer. Has a reputation for restoring classic cars and for being the East End’s resident lothario. Dean is about to make some significant changes in his life.

Sam Winchester, Dean’s younger brother. Is a partner in a law firm started by Martin Licht.

Bobby Singer, Dean and Sam’s foster father. Owns and runs Bobby’s Garage along with Dean.

Castiel Novak, a recent Southold College hire. Has a doctorate in linguistics and is considered one of the world’s leading experts in a number of ancient languages.

Doctor Rodney McKay, head of the Physics and Engineering Department at Southold College, multiple PhD’s. He and John were married in Canada several months after they moved in together. He is one of Dean’s mentors.

Doctor John Sheppard (Lieutenant Colonel, Honorable Discharge), head of the Math Department at Southold College, holds a PhD in Applied Mathematics. In addition to teaching and research, John owns a 250-acre horse farm, called The Flying Ferris Farm, where he raises show hunters/jumpers. He also owns a Cessna. He and his husband, Rodney McKay have two children, Conner and Cassidy.

Doctor Radek Zelenka, Professor at Southold College, holds a PhD in Mechanical Engineering and works very closely with Rodney. The Czech born scientist will play a large role in Dean’s life in the upcoming years.

Colonel Jonathan “Jack” O’Neill (Retired), current owner of the Barking Dog Winery. Retired from the Air Force after being injured in the line of duty.

Doctor Daniel Jackson, head of the Anthropology and Archeology Department at Southold College, multiple PhD’s. Daniel was recruited to Southold College after word of his unusual theories leaked out. After signing a non-disclosure agreement, Daniel was unable to discuss his theories in public, although he has continued to work on them.

Alan Levine, Castiel’s former lover.

Kathy White, local artist and owner of Dragon’s Nest. She’s an amateur beekeeper and produces 500 to 1,000 jars of Dragon’s Gold Honey each year.

Winsome Moore-Simon, caterer in the town of Southold, works primarily with Jack O’Neill at The Pavilion, the event venue at the Barking Dog Winery.

Lieutenant General George Hammond (Retired), President of Southold College.

Joseph (Joe) Cacciatore (deceased), original owner of the Barking Dog Winery, which was the first winery on the East End of Long Island. He left the winery to Jack when he died.

Martin (Marty) Licht, lawyer and owner of the firm in which Sam is a partner.

The Barking Dog Winery is located in Peconic, a hamlet in the town of Southold. This area, on the North Fork of Long Island, is also referred to as the East End, which encompasses both the North and South Forks.

Southold College, a private college that in the past has catered to the children of the wealthy. Under George Hammond’s direction, a number of the world’s top scientists in a variety of fields are on staff.

 

 

 

### When love beckons to you, follow him, Though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you yield to him, Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. Khalil Gibran

John Winchester lost his mind when his wife was killed in a car accident. After the funeral, he packed up his boys and his car and hit the road and the bottle. He dragged himself and his sons from state to state and one crappy motel, poker game, and bender to the next.

At eight years old, Dean was forced to parent four-year-old Sammy and himself. He became adept at stealing as John frequently forgot to buy food, or drank away whatever money he did have. He kept them and their clothes clean and took care of John when he passed out. He’d taken a few books with him and began to teach Sammy what he knew about reading and math, which admittedly, wasn’t all that much.

Several months into the road trip from hell, John staggered in at 8 AM and tripped over the shoes Sammy had left in the middle of the crappy motel room. In utter rage, he careened over to the two small forms lying in one of the beds, swinging wildly.

John’s blows woke up both boys, who immediately began crying and screaming. His fist caught the side of Sammy’s face, stunning and silencing him. Dean’s reaction was visceral. He grabbed the baseball bat he kept by the side of the bed and cold cocked his father.

Breathing hard, he checked on Sammy, who had wet himself in fear. Dean ran to get some ice from the motel freezer and wrapped it in one of the motel’s thin, ratty towels, pressing the makeshift icepack to the large bruise that was already forming on Sam’s face. Murmuring softly, Dean tried to comfort his brother, who was now whimpering in fear.

Dean half carried Sam into the bathroom where he stripped off his wet pajamas and underwear. Giving his brother a quick bath, he got the both of them dressed. Fishing out John’s wallet, he took forty bucks and the list of phone numbers his father kept.

He and Sammy walked down the road to the diner where they’d eaten dinner the night before. He sat Sammy down and ordered pancakes for himself and a bowl of oatmeal for his brother. Telling the younger boy not to move, Dean called his Uncle Bobby from the payphone, reversing the charges. Once he’d explained the situation, the gruff reassuring rumble of Bobby telling him to sit tight loosened the knot of anxiety in Dean’s stomach.

Sioux Falls, South Dakota to Kansas City, Missouri was a drive of a little over five hours, and Dean and Sam stayed in the diner. The waitress brought over crayons and a coloring book that had recently been left behind. If she wondered what two small children were doing alone in a dive diner on a school day, she kept it to herself. Dean had seen her tired eyes scan Sammy’s bruised face and slide away. It pissed him off that not one person in their months of travelling had thought to interfere and help him and his brother.

A few hours later, Dean ordered a burger for himself and a bowl of chicken noodle soup for Sammy. The younger boy was unusually quiet, his endless questions trapped behind wide, still shocked eyes and a tightly clenched jaw. Dean could only hope that his Uncle Bobby would get there soon and then help them.

~*~

Bobby pushed his truck, anxious to get to Dean and Sammy, furious at his old friend. He knew the pain John was in; he’d lost _his_ wife and he still felt her loss every day. They hadn’t had any children, much to his regret. When his friends John and Mary had Dean and then Sam, he’d fallen in love with both boys. He couldn’t imagine uprooting and dragging such young children around while selfishly drowning his pain in a bottle.

He arrived at the run down diner, sprinting into the place. He eyes immediately found the two boys. Dean went from looking stoic to a sniveling wreck in seconds now that he didn’t have to be strong for his baby brother. Sam barely noticed Bobby’s arrival. His hazel eyes were wary and wide.

Bobby settled the bill, leaving the waitress a large tip, thanking her for allowing the boys to wait for him. He gathered them up and drove the short distance to the motel Dean told him they were staying.

Telling the boys to stay put, Bobby stomped into the room intending on beating the fuck out of John Winchester. He hadn’t missed the large bruise covering half of Sammy’s face.

John was passed out across the bed. His sour, unwashed body competed with the alcohol, and the whole room reeked. Gagging, Bobby threw a glass of water into John’s face. “Wha…” he sputtered.

“Get your drunken ass out of bed and get the boy’s clothes packed,” Bobby growled.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Bobby? My boys ain’t going nowhere.”

“Yeah, they are. They’re coming with me. You need to get your shit together and Dean and Sammy will be with me until you do.”

Running a hand over his unshaven face, John tried to explain. “A man’s got a right to mourn, Bobby. I don’t remember you being in much better shape when Karen died.”

“I didn’t have kids, you moron. And you can thank whatever god you pray to that you’re still drunk. Because, right now I’d like nothing better than to beat the living fuck out of you,” Bobby retorted.

Seeing that his old friend was serious in addition to being seriously pissed off, John began gathering Dean and Sam’s things. Stuffing everything into the two backpacks, he thrust them in Bobby’s direction. “So, you’re just going to steal my kids? Just like that?”

“Yeah, John, just like that. Unless you want me to involve some Social Service agency. We could do that and I’ll make sure you never get to see them kids again. This way, you know they’re safe, and if you can get your shit together, you’ll get ‘em back,” Bobby answered.

John watched as his old friend walked out the door and never looked back.

### Two Years Later

“Run, Sammy, run!” Dean shouted, encouraging the younger boy to make it to home plate. Once the umpire declared him safe, Dean ran down to the field to high five the small child.

Eyes shining, Sammy shouted, “I did it, Dean! I did it!”

“You sure did, Sammy,” Dean agreed. He moved aside as the rest of the team swarmed around his brother to congratulate him on making the winning homerun.

The two boys caught a ride home with one of the team moms. Generally Bobby never missed one of their games, but he’d had something to do that day that couldn’t be put off.

~*~

While Sammy was playing peewee baseball and Dean was in the stands cheering his little brother, Bobby was on the outskirts of town meeting with John Winchester.

Bobby was unimpressed with what he saw. Driving up in a rusted out piece of shit, John was unkempt and nearly as dirty as he’d been the last time he’d seen him. A quick glace into the cab of the pickup confirmed what Bobby knew he’d see; lots of empties and the remnants of at least a dozen fast food meals.

Before John could open his mouth, Bobby said, “No.”

“I could have you arrested for kidnapping,” John stated.

“You do that then. You’re nothing but a drunk. Sammy just stopped having nightmares about six months ago. He barely remembers you. Dean, on the other hand, can’t forget the John Winchester roller coaster of crazy,” Bobby barked.

“Please, Bobby. If I had my boys, I’d stop drinking.”

“That ain’t how it works. I brought you some of their school pictures. Sammy’s playing baseball and Dean’s playing football. They both make good grades and have friends. They eat balanced meals and have clean clothes,” Bobby disclosed, throwing John a bone. “If you haven’t managed to get sober in two years, I doubt you ever will.”

“I don’t have much incentive, do I?” John sneered.

“Dean and Sammy should’ve been enough of an incentive. What the hell do you really want?” Bobby demanded.

“I need some money,” John admitted.

“Yeah, I sorta figured.”

“It’s just a loan, Bobby, I swear.”

Handing over 500 bucks, Bobby said, “You keep telling yourself that, John.”

John grabbed the money, stuffing it into his back pocket. “Tell the boys I love them,” he requested.

“Sure thing, John,” Bobby lied.

On the way home, Bobby started making plans.

~*~

Once Bobby had made the decision to leave, it had taken him several days at the library to research where he was running. He needed a place that was rural or semi rural. Living in a city of any size wasn’t what he wanted, for himself or the boys. He wanted a place that had access to wealthy people so he could make a living, and a decent school system. It also had to be far enough away from the middle of the country, which meant one of the coasts. He didn’t think John would think to look for them much further than the surrounding states.

The only location that met his requirements was the East End of Long Island. It was far away enough from New York City, it was semi rural, and the Hamptons and Montauk drew moneyed crowds during the summer months, and the wineries drew people of all sorts the rest of the year. The town of Southold seemed perfect on paper and that’s where Bobby set his sight.

With a few phone calls, Bobby found a real estate agent in Long Island and contacted her. He told her exactly what he needed and gave her his phone number. He’d been saving for a rainy day for years and it was now pouring. He wasn’t about to give up the boys he loved and had come to think of as sons.

~*~

On the second to last day of the school year, Bobby, neatly dressed, walked into the office and requested Dean and Sam’s school records. They were handed over by the school secretary, her eyes burning with curiosity.

Bobby had spent the last several weeks packing while the boys were in school. He hated to uproot them again, and he swore to himself this was the last time. He flat out didn’t trust his old friend. Knowing John had it in him to grab the boys and disappear caused him to become hyper vigilant. And that was no way for Dean and Sammy to live; not when they’d just started to act like normal kids after their six month road trip with their drunken ass of a father.

They came home from the last day of school, excited about the long summer ahead and showing off their report cards. Bobby wasn’t one of those parents who paid for good grades and he was glad of that when he looked them over. Both boys were at the top of their class and had near perfect grades. Swelling with pride, he announced, “I think these reports cards deserve a celebration. Burgers and ice cream tonight?”

As he’d just named their current favorite meal, he wasn’t surprised when they both stated to cheer and dance a little victory dance.

On the way home from Sioux Falls, Bobby told them they were leaving on vacation in two days. He didn’t tell them it would be permanent, but he made very sure that they packed their favorite toys and books.

### Twenty Years Later

Over the years, Bobby had made a name for himself and the garage he’d opened. He’d been pleased that Dean was interested in continuing to work in the business after he’d finished college. He could have easily taken his business degree and gone to Wall Street and made a bundle, or taken his engineering degree and gone for his Masters or Doctorate. The head of the Physics and Engineering Department at Southold College had certainly wanted Dean to do just that.

Dean had decided right after graduation that sitting in an office was never going to be the kind of life he wanted. Sam, on the other hand, was settled into a local law practice and he was happy and thriving. Bobby was thrilled that Sam had come back to Southold after graduating from Stanford Law. He never thought he’d have both his boys so close to him after they’d grown up. Neither one of them lived with him, true, but he got to see Dean at work, and he ate several meals a week with Sam and his girlfriend.

Their busiest time of the year was summer, when all the day-trippers and twenty and thirty somethings packed their bags and rented homes in the Hamptons and Montauk. It was also when the folks who had more money than sense descended to spend some time in their mansions and flit from party to party and often from lover to lover.

The wineries in both the North and South forks did fantastic business over the summer months. No one wanted to be the house that didn’t have a good supply of Long Island wine. Peconic, a picturesque hamlet in the town of Southold, where they lived and had their business, was no exception and Bobby’s Garage also saw an uptick in business during the summer.

Autumn was nearly as busy as summer, albeit with a different sort of clientele and only over the weekends: families with young children and groups of friends and young couples came out to spend the day at the pumpkin patches looking for the perfect pumpkin to carve or paint. They picked sunflowers, sampled jams, mustards, horseradish, honey, and cider, and then stopped at the many farm stands for fall vegetables, baked goods, and flowers. The farms were busy pulling fall crops out of the ground, hoping to beat the first frost. And, of course, the wineries were also busy getting in the last of the ripened grapes.

From September to the end of October, there were a variety of Fall Festivals up and down the East End as the residents wanted to make as much money as possible while the tourists were still willing to come out in great numbers. The Festivals were graced with various names, each according to tradition or theme. There were Apple, Oyster, Harvest, Pumpkin, Halloween, Pickle, Garlic, Kite, and Seafood Festivals, along with the generic Fall Festivals. Craft shows, art shows and antique shows abounded and were run by churches, gardening clubs, quilting clubs, businesses, and a host of other groups. There were also several large classic car shows and swap meets of every size. All of this ensured the tourists would pour in on every weekend the weather was fine.

Winter and spring still saw tourists, but not in the numbers seen in summer and fall. Buses from New York City, Jersey, and Connecticut still brought tourists to do winery tours, but these were usually older people just looking to get out for the day, and the buses were never full. The wineries opened their doors, but didn’t make a great deal of money from such day-trippers. Weddings were still held at the various wineries that had event venues, usually at deep discounts.

The time after New Year’s gave the residents of the East End a period of rest. They were able to sit back and reconnect with each other, or enjoy a fire and a home cooked meal with their families without the near constant demands that the tourist season imposed upon them. They didn’t have to battle congested roads or crowded eateries, and there was time to sit and linger over a cup of coffee or a bowl of soup. And, like small towns the world over, they caught up with local gossip. There was little privacy in such places and Southold and Peconic were no exception.

Spring saw the wineries and farms gearing up for the growing season. The soil was tilled and machinery checked and rechecked. The vines were inspected for general health. Seed was planted, buildings were painted or repaired if needed, windows were washed, and gardens planted. Properties were cleaned of leftover winter and storm debris, and the beaches were raked. New merchandise for stores was ordered, and the art galleries began hanging new art. The many restaurants tried out new dishes to add to old favorites, and bar tenders attempted to come up with new drinks with sexy or suggestive names.

Dean and Bobby generally spent the winter and spring working on classic cars. It had become a badge of honor to acquire a car from Bobby’s Garage, especially one worked on by Dean. They were able to turn out ten to twelve cars a year. Dean had a flair for coaxing the original beauty and style out of any wreck and he had a knack for matching the right car with the right client. And people paid very well for that talent.

### January

The busy, decadence filled autumn and bustling holiday season was just winding down when Doctor McKay made his way to Bobby’s Garage.

“Hey, Doctor M,” Dean called out when he saw Rodney exit his car.

“Dean!” Rodney smiled, seeming genuinely pleased to see the younger man.

Wiping his hands on a towel, Dean invited Rodney into the garage’s small office. “Based on your pissy expression, I take it this isn’t a social call,” Dean dryly noted.

“You haven’t been out to the farm in six months. Conner and Cassidy miss you,” Rodney replied.

Shifting his eyes to somewhere over Rodney’s shoulder, Dean tried to explain. “Yeah, I’ve been busy. Tell the kids I’ll be out this weekend.”

“Busy, hmm?” Rodney asked shrewdly. “So the two women I heard talking about the hot piece of ass they shared last week were talking about someone else then? Some other townie mechanic that I’m unaware of?”

Blushing, Dean’s memory flashed for a moment on the two women who’d celebrated the holiday season by riding him half the night. “Probably not,” Dean confessed.

“My offer is still open, Dean. I can’t take you on as a grad student, but Radek can and will. I can guarantee that you’ll get into the Engineering Program. And there’s a scholarship with your name on it,” Rodney upped the ante. It was nearly the same conversation he’d been having with Dean since he graduated school nine years ago.

“Seriously?” Dean asked. The offer of a scholarship was a new element in McKay’s campaign.

“When have I ever blown smoke up your ass?” Rodney asked in all sincerity.

Dean thought back to when he’d first met the astrophysicist. Rodney’s car had broken down practically in front of the garage. Dean had just turned fourteen and he’d been having a rebellious adolescence; temperamental and closed off, Dean’s attitude was another person in the room. Rodney had the distinction of being their most demanding customer, and that was saying something given their wealthy, demanding clientele. For some reason, and despite his claim that he disliked children, he’d liked both Sam and Dean, and had become a close family friend. And he’d always been honest with the boys, brutally so, even when a lie might have been easier for everyone.

“Never,” Dean replied honestly. “I promise I’ll think about,” Dean said for the first time since Rodney had been bringing up grad school.

“I can’t ask any more than that I suppose. It’s a good thing I started working on you for undergrad when you were fifteen and impressionable,” Rodney laughed.

Dean had no answer to that. Dean had never told Rodney that the only reason he had gone to college was the fear of disappointing him. Rodney was the first person, other than Bobby who’d managed to wiggle their way past all the walls Dean had built. He’d set the stage for Dean to begin tearing down most of those walls.

“So, are you here to harass me about grad school, or did you need something else,” Dean questioned.

“I’m getting tired of hearing John pine every time he sees a car that you’ve obviously restored,” he complained peevishly. “I don’t want to spend another summer or fall listening to him whine.”

Trying to hide the glint of laughter in his eyes, Dean made a half assed attempt at being professional before he decided it wasn’t going to happen. “Would it help if I stopped restoring cars?” Dean asked just before he lost his battle with laughter.

McKay waited patiently for Dean to get his laughter out, looking secretly pleased to see the younger man in such a state.

“It really wasn’t that funny, Dean,” McKay remarked as Dean swiped at his tears.

“It so was, Rodney. You sounded like a twelve year old girl whose boyfriend would rather play ball than bake cookies with her,” Dean stated. Rodney’s blush started him laughing again.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t go on and on. We can hardly take a drive during tourist season! I figure if I get him his own car, he’ll stop moaning and groaning.”

“Did you have something in mind?”

“I thought I’d leave it to you. John thinks you’ve got some sort of magic car gene or something,” Rodney groused.

Pleased with the indirect compliment, Dean gave himself a mental pat on the back. He didn’t have a magic gene, but he did have a keen observational eye. He had a built in instinct when matching classic cars to people. Not everyone listened to his advice, however. Some people insisted on having a particular car that Dean would never have chosen for them. About half those people came back for a second car, finally listening to his suggestions.

If he were going to restore a classic for Rodney, he knew he’d go with something sturdy and front end heavy like a ’52 Dodge pickup or a Ford ’56 F100 pickup. Painted blue to match his eyes or red to match his passion for science.

Pulling himself out of what kind of car he’d match his mentor with, he smiled. “I just got a car in that I hadn’t planned to start working on just yet,” he said. Standing, he walked back into the garage’s work area and showed Rodney his latest purchase.

“It’s a 1976 Cadillac Eldorado Convertible. It was supposed to be the last American convertible until they started making them again in ’83,” Dean explained. “She needs a lot of work, but this is a classic car and when I get through with her, she’ll be gorgeous.”

“This is the car you see John in?”

“Well, yeah, Rodney. A sleek luxury car. What were you expecting – a ‘vette or something?” Dean scoffed.

Folding his arms defensively, Rodney tried to explain. “It’s just that every time he lusts over one of your cars, it’s always some sports car.”

“That’s because the assholes who summer in the Hamptons want sports cars so they can show off. I wish I had a buck for the number of times John’s asked me to sell him the Impala,” Dean reassured him. “Besides, John’s like the last guy that would ever have a mid life crisis, which is what the sports cars are all about. If that’s what you were worried about.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” McKay protested stiffly.

“Sure, sure, Doc. Seriously though, we’ve all seen how John looks at you. You’re like the ice cream on his apple pie,” Dean teased.

Rodney managed to glare and look pleased all at once. “Can you finish in time for Memorial Day?”

“For you and John? No problem,” Dean answered. He escorted the older man back to the office and laid out the cost of the parts and restoration. As soon as Rodney left he began scouring the Internet for parts.

### March

Dean was buried in the Caddy’s engine when one of the tow trucks rolled into the garage with an older Audi hitched up. Dean could see someone sitting in the truck’s cab. He straightened up and grabbed a towel to wipe his hands.

“Hey, boss,” the driver spoke as he exited the truck. “This is Mr. Novak, and he’s got a bit of a problem.”

Looking exceedingly uncomfortable in his blue suit, Mr. Novak was fidgeting with his watch and cufflinks. “I have an interview at the college in thirty minutes. I really can’t be late,” he explained in a deep, gravely voice.

Dean took a moment to look over the man, liking what he saw: Tousled dark hair, a wide, generous mouth, and gorgeous blue eyes to go along with a lean, runner’s body. “If you give me five minutes to clean up, I’ll be happy to drive you over to the college,” Dean quickly decided.

“You don’t have a car to lend me?” he asked.

“Not at the moment,” Dean smoothly lied. He caught Bobby giving him the stink eye, but ignored him. This wouldn’t be the first time Dean used the excuse of not have a loaner to get laid. Granted, Bobby was used to him mostly chasing pussy, but the fact that he was bisexual wasn’t a secret to anyone.

“Very well. I’d appreciate the lift,” the man said stiffly.

Dean trotted off to the bathroom, stripped off his coveralls, and washed his hands. He was in a presentable pair of jeans and a tee shirt. He grabbed the long sleeve dark green shirt he kept for situations just like this and was ready to go.

Bobby was in the midst of taking down the stranded motorists’ phone number when Dean exited the bathroom.

“I’m Dean Winchester,” he introduced himself on the way to his baby, a sleek and powerful ’67 Impala.

“I’m Castiel Novak. Thanks for this.”

“What department are you interviewing with?”

“Anthropology. I’m a linguist specializing in ancient languages.”

“Which ones?” Dean asked curiously.

“I’m fluent in a half dozen ancient languages, and semi fluent in another dozen, but they seem most interested in my Latin.”

Nodding his head, Dean replied, “You’re seeing Doctor Jackson?”

“Yes. Do you know him?”

“I do. He’s a great guy. Just be yourself, he’s got a good bullshit meter,” Dean advised.

“Thanks. I’m not quite sure I want to leave NYU, but I’d like to know what my options are. Southold has a reputation as a first rate school. And I’ve heard that they treat their professors well,” Castiel said.

Both men fell into a comfortable silence and Castiel took in the large fields on either side of the road that were being prepared for the upcoming growing season. Neat farm homes and sprawling ranches were interspersed with the fields and vineyards, and every so often a road leading left or right would appear. Horses, llamas, sheep, and goats grazed in clean paddocks, and the roaring engine startled a flock of chickens or ducks a time or three.

Dean was soon pulling into the parking lot closest to Irving Hall where the Physics and Engineering, Math, and Anthropology Departments were located. As Bobby’s Garage serviced all the college’s vehicles, Dean had a parking sticker.

“Anthropology is on the third floor. I’m going to visit a friend. Meet me back at the car whenever you’re done,” Dean instructed. “Good luck on the interview, Cas.”

“Cas?”

“Yeah, short for Castiel,” Dean laughed.

Castiel smiled at the reply. “Thank you, Dean. I’ll see you shortly.”

Castiel hit the elevator’s up button, while Dean walked to Doctor McKay’s office, hoping he’d catch the older man.

~*~

Dean strolled into Rodney’s office and heard him and Doctor Zelenka shouting at each other. It was like stepping back in time. The office secretary, who had been there when Dean had been a student, greeted him. It still amazed him that she could work through the shouting that was a constant anytime Rodney was around, but he supposed she was used to it.

“Dean,” Miriam Kaplan greeted him warmly. “Just go on in. Rodney will be thrilled to see you.”

Dean knocked on the open door, stopping McKay mid rant. “Dean. Thank you for rescuing me from Zelenka’s stupidity.”

Radek, long used to his colleague’s sharp tongue, ignored him. “So, Dean, are you here to sign up for grad school?”

“I am. I still can’t believe I’m doing this,” Dean admitted.

“About time,” McKay complained, taking a folder out of his top desk drawer. “Here’s your application, your scholarship offer, and a schedule of classes. You and Radek can go over whatever classes you’ll need and he’ll approve your research topic. The sky’s pretty much the limit for that. Whatever equipment or facilities you need, I’m pretty sure we’ll be able to accommodate you.”

Dean took the folder and flipped through the paperwork. There was a lot less than he expected.

“You will start summer classes and be prepared to take more classes in the fall, yes?” Radek asked. “Unlike Rodney, I’m kind and will wait until fall before forcing you to teach, but you get to mark my exams starting in the summer.”

Feeling like he’d jumped into the deep end of the pool wearing a heavy coat, Dean just nodded.

“I expect the completed application by the end of the week, Dean. Come to see me and we will get you registered and begin discussing your research,” Radek smiled at his new grad student and PhD candidate.

“Sure, Doctor Z. You realize that I have no teaching experience and no clue about what to research, right?”

Waving his hand to dismiss Dean’s fears, the Czech engineer smirked. “Not to worry, Dean. Is a beginning class; you’ll be fine. And, we will figure out a research project that suits your skills.”

~*~

Dean went back to the Impala to wait for Castiel, thinking about this new turn in his life with bemusement. He’d already discussed going back to school with Bobby, who was all in favor of it. Dean thought Sammy would get a kick out of his new ambitions.

He wondered what John would think: Wondered if he’d be proud. When he was a child, he’d thought that John had just given him and Sammy to Bobby, and that had caused him to act out in ways that he was now deeply ashamed of. Dean had been an adult before he realized Bobby had run with him and Sammy in order to protect them from John. He was grateful for it, grateful that he and Sammy had had the opportunity to have a normal life.

Castiel broke into his thoughts. “Hi, Dean.”

“Hey. How’d it go?” Dean asked taking in Castiel’s slightly stunned face.

“I’ve got the job if I want it,” Castiel answered. “Doctor Jackson has given me a few weeks to think about it.”

“That’s great, Cas! I’ll give you a tour of the campus. That might help make up your mind.”

The campus was spread out over fifty acres and was beautifully landscaped thanks to the efforts of the East End Gardening Club. The dorms, where several hundred students lived, were at the far end of the campus. There were seven Halls in total and ran the gamut of educational needs. Each Hall had at least one food provider and various student run clubs were scattered throughout the buildings. The science buildings had world class labs and nearly every classroom was a smart room.

One building was dedicated to campus services including counseling, and contained most of the needed offices to run the school. Yet another building held a gym and an Olympic size swimming pool along with the offices and most of the classrooms for the mini school for gifted children that was run by the college. Both Dean and Sam had attended high school there. The Student Union building was centrally located and was generally busy. The library was set apart and had it’s own courtyard, which included a large koi pond.

Dean took Castiel into every building, all of which showcased art from local artists. He was proud of his alma mater and wanted to show it off. Castiel seemed suitably impressed. Southold wasn’t a well-known school, nor was it an Ivy, but the caliber of the teaching staff coupled with a low student to teacher ratio and the amenities offered to the student body and staff made it a hidden gem.

“Let’s get some lunch,” Dean suggested. “My treat. To celebrate you getting the job.”

“I’d like that,” Castiel accepted.

“You like Mexican?”

“I do.”

“The Student Union building has some really good Mexican. They do a fantastic turkey mole.”

“Sounds good,” Castiel said as they entered the building. Once they hit the food court, Castiel found a table while Dean went to get their food. He returned with two plates piled high with steaming food and two cans of soda.

The two men dug into their food, both of them taking the time to savor the meal. When his plate was half done, Castiel turned curious eyes to his dining partner. “You seem very familiar with the campus. Did you attend school here?”

Dean wiped his mouth and swallowed before answering. “I did. I’ve got a degree in business and one in mechanical engineering.”

“You like working with your hands?”

Dean searched Castiel’s face looking for condescension. He answered when all he saw was curiosity. “I love it. It’s instant gratification. I don’t do many car repairs anymore. Mostly I rebuild and restore classic cars and maintain the machinery for about half the wineries on the East End,” Dean explained. He knew that the people who summered in the Hamptons considered him nothing more than a townie mechanic and that label ticked him off. He wasn’t real to most of them; he was the bad boy they went slumming with and the guy they used for a hot fling. They never got to know him, thinking he was below them. And, Dean used them right back.

“I imagine a mechanical engineering degree comes in very handy, then,” Castiel observed with a grin.

“You have no idea,” Dean agreed. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he’d told someone from out of town that he was educated. He knew he wasn’t ever going to be the smartest person in the room, but he sure as shit wasn’t ever the dumbest person in the room either. His decision to go back for his doctorate suddenly felt more right than ever. “So, what about you, Castiel? How’d you get so good at languages?”

“I was a sickly child. And very bad tempered and easily bored. My parents brought in a variety of tutors and one of them discovered I had a knack for languages,” Castiel related.

“A variety of tutors? You come from money then?”

“Yes, a lot of money. I’ve shamed my entire family by getting a degree in something other than business or law. My parents didn’t consider a linguistics degree suitable for my station in life,” he said dryly. “Language was a - - challenge for me. It gave me something to think about. When I grew up, I began studying in earnest.”

“Do you do anything with it other than teach?” Dean now wanted to know.

“Beside teaching, I mostly translate ancient documents. You can often see the progression of language, and it allows for insight into a culture.”

Dean watched as the man across from him became more animated. His eyes seemed a deeper blue and his gaze intensified. And, Dean was deeply intrigued. And attracted.

Dean’s experiences with people that had money weren’t great. He’d grown up comfortable; he and Sam had never needed for anything, but they didn’t have the kind of money that many of the people they dealt with had. Dean had a bit of a bias against those that had money, mainly because they tended to treat lowly mechanics like shit. As intrigued as he was, Dean fell back on old habits.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re very attractive when you talk about this stuff?”

Castiel blushed. “Um, I – I. What?” he stammered. Castiel was saved from commenting further by the ringing of his phone. He took it, all business now, murmuring softly. The call ended and he returned his gaze back to Dean. “That was Bobby. He said my car is ready.”

The ride back to the garage was quiet, but not uncomfortable. When they neared the garage, Castiel slid his eyes over to Dean. “Thank you, Dean. I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner tonight?”

Dean was shocked. He figured he’d struck out given Castiel’s embarrassment and uncertain reply to his come on. “That’d be awesome. What time?”

“How does seven sound?”

“Sounds good. Where are you staying?” Dean inquired.

“At the Beach Comber Motel,” Castiel replied, naming a motel Dean knew well. Do you have any suggestions for where to eat?”

“That depends. What are you in the mood for?”

“Something simple? Maybe steak or fish? I like both,” Cas answered.

Dean thought for a moment. “Alright, we’ll go to The Corner House. Good steaks, good beer, and they have a bunch of other stuff on the menu if you decide you aren’t in the mood for steak,” Dean decided. “I’ll pick you up since I know where I’m going and you don’t,” Dean said, pulling up to the garage. It was only a partial truth; Dean hadn’t allowed a date to know where he lived since he’d moved out of his childhood home. He’d never brought anyone into his home; he always went to his date’s place.

“I’ll see you at seven then,” Cas said and went to settle his bill.

~*~

Dean cleared some paperwork deciding it was too late to get back under the Caddy’s hood. He mostly ignored Bobby’s bitching about using the business to get laid. Dean acknowledged he had a point. It wasn’t like he couldn’t get laid by going out to bars and clubs. He really didn’t feel like explaining that there was something about Cas that had caught him by the balls.

Working until all the paperwork was completed, Dean said goodnight and headed home to shower and dress. He clicked the remote to open his electric gates, not bothering to close them as he’d soon be leaving. He felt the usual peace descend. He’d bought this house and the two acres that came with it eight years ago. He’d fallen in love with the property immediately.

The small two-bedroom house was set well back from the road and closely spaced mature trees hid the home from the road even in the winter. The backyard was cleared to the edge of his property and abutted another thick stand of trees that belonged to the neighboring property. It was quiet and private. Dean could leave his shades open if he chose without worrying about prying eyes.

He picked up Castiel and drove the short distance to The Corner House. They were shown to a table near one of the fireplaces. As it was a weekday in March, there weren’t many other diners. They both ordered NY strip steaks with fries and salads, and they both opted for Sierra Nevada Pale Ale, which was on tap.

Dean kept getting distracted by the small amount of flesh Castiel was displaying. The other man had forgone his suit jacket and tie, and had opened two buttons on his still crisp white shirt. Itching to strip the other man out of his clothes, Dean was glad to be interrupted by their food.

Once their dinner and beer was served they were left alone. Dean was still perplexed as to why he’d accepted this date. He hadn’t been on a traditional date since he was in college. He usually just picked up someone at a bar or on the beach and went back to his or her place to fuck. He was pretty sure sex was on the table tonight, and he supposed that Castiel needed to pretense of a date in order to indulge in no strings sex.

Their conversation was light and general. They didn’t exchange life stories or deep feelings. They did manage to laugh a lot, especially when they realized that while they loved many of the same artists and authors, their taste in music couldn’t be more different. They spent a few minutes making fun of each other’s favorite bands.

Castiel was an engaging conversationalist and was able to talk about most anything. Dean was out of practice, but he kept up and found talking to Cas was as easy as talking to Sam or one of his friends. They ordered coffee and pie and Dean could feel the sexual tension between them rising.

Dean was grateful when the bill was put in the middle of the table, and Cas looked equally glad. Castiel took care of the bill and they walked slowly back to the Impala. “Would you like to go for a drive?” Dean asked.

“No, let’s just go back to the motel,” Cas suggested.

“Cool,” Dean smiled.

The moment the door to Castiel’s room was closed, he cupped Dean’s face and kissed him.

Dean kissed him back with enthusiasm. He broke off the kiss to strip off his leather jacket. “I didn’t think you were interested, Cas. What changed your mind?”

“Does it matter?” Cas asked as he stripped off his jacket followed by his shoes and socks, and then his shirt. He turned on the lamped by the nightstand, highlighting the large bed.

“No, I guess not.”

“Stop thinking, Dean,” Cas ordered, reaching to unbutton his shirt.

Dean laughed, “That’s usually my line.” Dean toed off his shoes, admiring Castiel’s lean runner’s body.

Cas sat on the edge of the bed. “Come here.”

Dean, helpless to disobey stood between spread legs, shivering as Cas ran his hands over his hips and cupped his ass. He reached up and unzipped Dean’s chinos, sliding them down.

Dean stepped out of his pants, dragging off his socks, watching as Cas removed his pants and black boxer briefs and stood naked and half hard before Dean.

Mouth watering, Dean traced sharply defined hipbones, marveling at the thinness of the skin, relishing its softness. Cas made a broken noise, thrusting forward. He slid his hands into the waistband of Dean’s boxers and shoved them down.

The two men kissed and touched, becoming more aroused with each caress. Grabbing Dean’s hand, Cas dragged him onto the bed and began tasting soft skin stretched over hard muscle. Cas found small pebbled nipples, and laved them greedily.

Working his way down, he stopped and met Dean’s eyes. Dean’s carded his hands through Castiel’s hair and the scent of male arousal filled the room. Cas bent and took the hard, straining cock into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the flared head.

“My turn,” Dean whispered when he began thrusting helplessly into Castiel’s mouth. He started to explore Castiel’s body, soft skin stretched over hard muscle fueling his lust. “Christ, Cas, you’re fucking gorgeous. I need to taste you,” he panted, moving down to take the hard cock in his mouth.

He held Cas down and groaned when he spread his legs. Mouth watering, Dean laved Castiel’s balls, determined to hear the man begging. He took the hard length of him into his mouth again, pleased by the restless stirring of the man beneath him.

“Fucking hell, Dean. Get back up here. I want to see you come.”

It was hot being ordered around for a change. Usually Dean took the lead in any bed he happened to be in, and meeting Castiel’s demands was the easiest thing in the world.

Lying side by side, Dean traced Castiel’s lips, wishing he could see more of the beautiful blue of his eyes. All that was visible was a thin ring of dark blue around his blown pupils. He moved in for a kiss, open mouths meeting and tongues dueling. He felt Cas’s cock against his as the other man took them both in hand, hand gripping tightly and moving slowly.

Dean pushed into the large hand, pleasure flooding his body. “I’m close,” he groaned.

“I want to see how beautiful you are when you come, baby. Come on, let go,” Cas demanded.

Dean stiffened and gave in to the demands, moaning harshly as he came into Cas’s hand.

Cas milked him and Dean shuddered through aftershocks. Dean’s hand joined Castiel’s and his thumb rubbed small circles on the head of Cas’ penis.

“More, Dean,” Cas begged, his voice deepened by passion. A few more pumps and Castiel shuddered through his own orgasm, growling, “Yes, oh, yes.”

Fuck, Cas. I wanna do that again,” Dean said.

“So, stay,” Cas offered.

They took turns in the bathroom. Dean unwrapped the complementary toothbrush and brushed his teeth before joining an already dozing Cas in the bed. He pulled the blanket up over the both of them and closed his eyes.

~*~

Dean awoke at 3 AM, surprised to find Castiel in his arms, his fine ass pressed tightly to his groin. He felt the other man stir so he reached down to tug at Cas’ semi hard cock, hoping he’d be up for another round of sex.

He was.

“Wait a second,” Cas said, leaving the bed. He came back with a travel size bottle of baby oil. He poured some in his hand and coated Dean’s penis, before handing the bottle over and returning to the bed.

Dean gathered Castiel tightly in his arms, his cock trapped between the cheeks of his ass. He put some of the oil on his hand and grasped Cas’ hard on.

Timing his strokes with his sliding thrusts, both men were shortly moaning and grunting as the heat built between them.

“Tighter, Dean,” Cas demanded, meeting Dean’s thrusts and tightening up around him.

It was rough and fast as they rutted, strength matched to strength and passion matched to passion.

Castiel groaned out his pleasure, spilling over Dean’s hand.

Dean could feel Cas’ hole fluttering against his cock. He let himself go and flipped Cas onto his belly. His cock slid through the oil, the pressure mounting. Having a strong male body under his meant that he didn’t need to temper his strength and he didn’t. Hips driving, he came in ecstasy, sliding through his own come before collapsing on top of Castiel.

“Christ,” he gasped.

Castiel chuckled and wormed his way out from under Dean. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“I don’t think I can move right now, Castiel.”

“It’s okay. I don’t _want_ to move.”

Castiel fell asleep again while Dean lightly dozed. He startled awake at 5 AM and left the bed quietly, gathering his clothes on the way to the bathroom. Dressing quickly, he checked to make sure he had his wallet and car keys before leaving a deeply sleeping Castiel and the motel room.

Even as he was leaving, Dean knew he was making a mistake. But, old habits die hard and Dean always left first. He always left while the person he had been with was sleeping. It was less messy that way and no one could make demands of him that he was unwilling to meet.

Except… except that Dean thought he might like meeting Castiel’s demands. He thought messy might be just what he needed. But he also thought that Cas was way out of his league and he wouldn’t open himself up to that kind of bullshit. So he left, and returned to his life. And tried to put Castiel out of his mind.

### Interlude: Castiel

Cas wasn’t surprised when he awoke at dawn to find Dean gone, even if he was a little hurt. It had been years since he’d made a real connection with someone, and he was sorry to lose it so quickly. He rose from the destroyed bed, blushing only a little and showered. He dressed, packed the few things he’d brought with him, and headed out to the bagel shop a short drive from his small motel, where he picked up a few real estate magazines.

He skimmed through them as he ate a huge breakfast, seeing a number of homes he found interesting. He hadn’t quite made up his mind yet, but his present situation could not continue.

His drive home was taken up with making a mental pro and con list. The only thing that Castiel had reservations about was the non-disclosure agreement he had to sign. He’d never heard of any academic working in a college or university environment that had needed to do so. It wasn’t uncommon for scientists working for the government to sign such agreements, but his specialty wasn’t in the hard sciences. Those were generally the only type of scientists tapped for classified government work. It was a contingency Castiel thought he could live with, however.

~*~

Castiel hadn’t bothered to call Alan to let him know he was on his way home. They’d had another argument before he left and he’d left a note saying he’d be gone for a few days, without saying where he was going. By the time Castiel drove into the parking garage under his building, he’d made up his mind that he was going to accept the position at Southold College.

He entered the apartment, the place he’d called home for seven years. Except it no longer felt like home. It felt like a battleground. Removing his coat, and putting his overnighter by the washing machine to be emptied later, Castiel made his way toward the bedroom, only vaguely curious as to where Alan could be. All of Alan’s classes were in the afternoon and he rarely showed up in his office before noon unless there was an early department meeting. He threw the door open, anticipating getting into his sweats and a soft tee shirt, and then climbing into bed for a nap…

And saw his lover in bed with a girl that couldn’t be more than twenty. He felt nothing. Their relationship had been dying for months now, ever since his book had come out and had been so successful in academic circles. Three weeks ago, he might have been mildly upset to find his lover in bed with a woman, but after last night, he just didn’t care.

Castiel never thought he’d cheat; he’d never cheated in a relationship before, but that’s just what had happened in Southold. He closed the door and went into the living room to wait for Alan and his very young piece of ass.

~*~

Ten minutes later a flustered girl left the apartment without a word or even a glance at Castiel. He let her go without a warning about selfish men. Alan strolled out several minutes later.

“So. I guess I should apologize?” he said, tying his robe around his slender body.

“No,” Castiel replied. “It’s really not necessary. You can stay in the guest room until you find somewhere else to live, but you’ll need to be out by May 15th. And I’ll be expecting half the rent and utilities until then.” Castiel was unsure if he was going to sell the apartment. He thought it might be nice to have a place to stay when he came into the city.

“You know I can’t afford to live in the city without you, Castiel!”

“I do know that, Alan. But, I’ll be leaving the city soon.”

“Where am I supposed to go?”

“That isn’t my problem.”

“Jesus Christ, Castiel, it was only a one time fuck!” Alan shouted, running his hands through his blonde hair in frustration.

“Do I seem angry to you, Alan?” Castiel inquired.

Alan looked at Castiel for the first time. “Actually, you don’t. Why aren’t you angry? I realize how badly I’ve fucked up and you have the right to be pissed.”

“Your mistake was fucking her in my bed, Alan. If you had gone into the guest room, I never would’ve known she was here, and even if I found out, I wouldn’t have cared. I had been planning to take a nap,” Castiel stated coldly.

“But, as it happens, I got laid last night as well. It was an eye opener. It’s been a long time since I’ve slept with someone who wasn’t a completely selfish shit,” Castiel admitted. He was surprised when the words didn’t stick in his throat. Going to bed with Dean hadn’t felt like just sex at all. For him it had been anything but.

“You utter bastard,” Alan bit out. “If you hadn’t caught me, would you have told me?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Let’s be frank though; this isn’t the first time you’ve cheated on me. I chose to ignore it.”

“Yes, well, you aren’t the best lay around, Castiel. Perhaps you should avoid bisexual men in the future.”

“Perhaps I should, Alan, but don’t pretend that you didn’t beg for my cock daily.”

“So, we’re done then?” Alan asked.

“I think we’ve been done for months. I was just - - hoping you’d, I don’t know, come to peace with my success. Jealousy is ugly, and the fact that you resent me for my success is childish.”

“You’ve never had to work for a damn thing in your life, Castiel. It pisses me off,’” Alan shouted.

“You’re an ass, Alan. I’ve worked for everything I have. I worked for my degrees, I worked for my position, and I put in hundreds of hours on my book,” Castiel informed his lover.

“Most of us don’t have a trust fund to fall back on,” Alan said snidely.

“I never heard you complain when that trust fund allowed you to live in this apartment or go on vacations. Need I remind you that you haven’t contributed very much financially?” he bit out.

The money had never been an issue, not really. Castiel sometimes wished that Alan would at least offer to contribute to their life, but he hadn’t really cared. Not even when it was pointed out to him that Alan was using him. It had always been more of a problem for Alan. He was jealous that Castiel had money, and it made him vicious on occasion.

“Why aren’t you renewing the lease?”

Just months ago, Castiel would have felt guilty that he’d lied to his lover since the day he moved in four years ago. He’d never told Alan that he owned the apartment, pretending that he had a lease. He had never stopped to wonder why he felt it necessary to lie to the man he was supposedly building a life with. “I’ve decided to take another job.”

A sour look crossed Alan’s handsome face. “A new job,” he said flatly. “I thought you said you weren’t interested in leaving NYU and that you just wanted to see what was out there.”

“I did say that. But, that was before I was made an incredible offer. An offer I’ve decided to accept.”

“May I ask where?”

“It doesn’t matter, Alan. You aren’t coming with me, and you’re no longer part of my life,” Castiel said bluntly.

“When did you decide this?” Alan demanded. “Was it because you caught me in bed with someone?”

“My mind was made up before I got home,” Castiel disclosed. “I’d appreciate it if you moved your things out of my bedroom now.”

~*~

Castiel put up a wash and did some other needed chores while Alan moved his things from their bedroom. Three hours later, he called Doctor Jackson and accepted the position. Daniel promised he’d have the non-disclosure agreement overnighted. Castiel then spent thirty minutes writing his letter of resignation. He spent some time going through the real estate brochures. He was expected to begin teaching during the summer session and he very much wanted to be settled before then. He made a few more phone calls, finding a real estate agent he clicked with on his fourth call. He told her what he wanted and informed her he’d be out in two weeks, prepared to buy.

He wandered out to the kitchen, throwing a frozen dinner into the microwave. As he ate, he wrote out an extensive to-do list in preparation for his move. Alan soon joined him, sighing deeply every few minutes. It took some time for Castiel to notice.

“Problem, Alan?”

“Will you tell me about the guy you slept with?”

“No. It really isn’t any of your concern.”

“I know you, Castiel. You don’t do one-night stands. So, what is it about this guy?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel answered after some thought. “Maybe it just felt good to be wanted.”

“Whatever. It’s not like he’d stick around once he gets to know you,” Alan said. “Not with that stick up your ass.”

“Were you always this cruel, Alan? Or are you just pissed that I’m leaving you?”

Alan didn’t answer, but as he left the kitchen he got off a parting shot. “I’ll be out by tomorrow. I’ve been seeing someone for the last six months and he’s been pushing me to leave you.”

Castiel had his own parting shot. “I take it he doesn’t have as much money as I do otherwise you’d have left already.” When Alan’s narrow face flushed in anger, Castiel knew he’d scored a direct hit. “Take a bottle of Scotch with you. It’s the least I can do to thank him, and it’s a very small price to pay for getting rid of you.”

### Memorial Day Weekend

Dean leaned against the bar, sipping at a beer and looking over the crowd. He’d had to force himself to come here tonight. For his entire adult life, Dean worked hard and played hard, especially during the summer. He chased tail the whole year and was content. Well, he was mostly content, except when he wasn’t. He’d started to wonder if this was all there was. And since March, his thoughts wandered far too often for his liking to a certain blue-eyed man. Since meeting Castiel, he felt like he was waiting for his life to begin. Tonight was an attempt to shake that feeling.

As usual, the bar was filled with beautiful women dressed in tight, revealing clothes; breasts, tiny waists, and shapely asses were all on full display. The men were good looking and buff, or average looking and obviously wealthy. Dean could have his pick, but his heart wasn’t in it. He hadn’t slept with anyone since Cas. Every time he’d gotten close, he’d see a pair of deep blue eyes staring back at him with heat, or hear a deep gravely voice begging for more. And, he would walk away.

His arm was jostled just as he was raising his bottle to take another sip. “I’m sorry,” he heard a deep gravelly voice apologize.

Dean felt his heart rate increase and a wide grin split his face. “Cas! I guess you decided to take the job after all.”

Surprised blue eyes met his. “Hello, Dean. It’s good to see you.”

“What’re doing here? This doesn’t seem to be your thing,” Dean asked.

“No, it isn’t. My parents have friends who summer in the Hamptons, and when they found out I lived nearby, their daughter insisted I go with her tonight and catch up,” Castiel explained, smiling. “I’m glad I came though,” he flirted.

Dean was getting ready to ask Cas out when a cultured voice broke into their conversation. “Castiel, you’re barking up the wrong tree here. Dean Winchester is the East End’s resident pussy hound. You know the type - - he’ll fuck anything that breathes.”

Dean felt himself flushing at the remark. Worse, he’d seen Castiel’s face shut down with her words. He recognized the girl because she’d been one of those women that had read much more than was intended into a one-night stand. Dean had slept with her and then she’d pursued him the rest of the summer, her behavior a half step away from stalking.

Before he could say a word to defend himself, Castiel broke in, “It was good to see you, Dean.” And he walked away, a firm grip on the woman’s arm.

Dean was done. He put his unfinished beer on the bar and walked out. He went home and took his guitar out and spent the rest of the night playing and thinking. For the first time in his life, Dean wanted to explain his past to someone. More, he wanted to a chance to get to know Castiel. The biggest regret he had was leaving Castiel’s bed back in March. It was a regret he didn’t know if he’d get a chance to fix.

~*~

Over the next months, Dean ran into Castiel often. They lived in the same area, and they were both at Southold. He started to occasionally attend the traditional Monday night dinners that had been held for years at the Barking Dog Winery, and he ran into Cas there two different times. Dean tried to speak with the linguist every time he ran into him. Cas was always polite, but left Dean no openings for anything more.

More than one person saw Dean get shot down time after time. It was noticed because people were used to seeing him score often and easily. Those closest to him noticed that his whoring seemed to have stopped entirely. A few put the two things together and came up with the right answers. No one approached him about it though, knowing Dean would not appreciate their interference. Instead, a discreet phone call was made to Sam Winchester.

### Mid-September

Dean was getting into the swing of things at school. He’d been given one class to teach for the Fall semester, and so far it was going well. Very well, if he were truthful. Teaching seemed to come naturally to him and his students liked him. Life was busy between his classes, a full time job, and teaching. He didn’t have much free time to think about Castiel, despite running into him constantly, but the man was often on his mind during his rare quiet moments.

This weekend there was yet another Fall Festival and Dean was looking forward to it. The Apple Festival was a family favorite and was eagerly anticipated by Bobby and Sam along with Dean. Bobby kept the garage open for emergencies and two of his mechanics took turns working during festivals.

Dean’s love for the Apple Festival could be summed up in one word; food. As much as he loved apple pie, it was generally the one thing he didn’t eat during the two-day festival. Not when there were so many other things to eat. There were always new dishes to try along with old favorites. The best part about being a local was that all of the vendors were also locals and were willing to give him samples along with discounts.

Two days before the Festival, Dean had Sammy over for dinner. It was good to spend some alone time with his baby brother. He grilled thick steaks and tossed a large salad, serving the meal with icy cold beer. They caught up over dinner, Sam talking about his latest cases, Dean talking about his classes and teaching.

“So, Bobby tells me you’ve been distracted lately. Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” Dean said.

“Tough. It’s the new professor Daniel hired that’s got you all twisted up, right?” Sam got right to the point.

Dean sighed. “I made a mistake with him. We, well, we spent the night together in March,” he confessed.

“And you did your usual disappearing act at dawn,” Sam guessed.

“Yeah. But, also… you remember that girl last year who was stalking me?” he asked.

“The one you wanted me to write a cease and desist order to? What about her? Is she still bothering you?”

“No, she stopped just like you said she would. She’s Cas’ friend, and she told him about my reputation.”

“And…”

“And now Cas doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“Is this like the first time you’ve ever struck out?” Sam inquired.

“I strike out all the time, Sam. But it’s never mattered before. I’d just like the chance to get to know him is all.”

Sam laughed. “Christ, not even you can be so unaware. Has it occurred to you that you might be in love with the guy?”

Dean didn’t react at all. He thought he’d been in love a time or two in the past. And maybe he had been, but it hadn’t lasted. Dean considered Sam’s words, testing them for the truth. “I don’t think I’m in love with him, Sam. Just - - interested. Intrigued, even.”

“Are you sure, Dean? Because you’re acting like a man in love,” Sam prodded.

Dean had never obsessed over anyone before. If they weren’t interested, he moved on with a shrug and a smile. He wasn’t sure why Castiel was different. He now thought Sammy might just be right. Maybe. Possibly. And he wasn’t about to admit that his baby brother had needed to point out the obvious to the oblivious. Not completely anyway. “No. I’m not sure. I don’t even know what being in love means, Sammy.”

Despite the years being loved and cared for by Bobby, the time spent with their father after their mother’s death had affected both men. Losing their mother had been trauma enough, but they were then ripped from their home and all they had known. Forced to rely on each other for emotional support, their development was interrupted, and in Dean’s case, stunted. Trust didn’t come easy to him. Getting to know him was as easy as hugging a cactus.

He’d learned to trust in himself when just a small child as every avenue of help had been cut off. And that carried over into adulthood. There were people he trusted, but each and every one of them had earned his trust, and far too many people didn’t think having his trust was worth the time or effort it would take. Dean had had to rescue himself and his brother. That betrayal was always with him. Had Dean spent any longer in John Winchester’s care, it is likely that nothing could have turned him around.

Bobby’s love had gone a long way to healing him, but not all the damage inflicted could be fixed. Sam had trust issues as well, but it was that he was a little more wary than the average person. He had been young enough that he didn’t consciously remember the six months spent on the road with his drunken, irresponsible father. He was far less damaged than his older brother.

Sam looked at his brother with pity. “It’s when that person is the first thing you think about in the morning and the last thing at night. It’s when what they want is more important than what you want. It’s wanting to make that person happy, even if it means putting their happiness before yours.

“It’s wanting to know everything about them, even the shit that isn’t pretty and wanting to share your shit. It’s being happy with that person even if all you’re doing is cooking dinner or the laundry. It’s wanting to spend the rest of your life with them. It’s knowing that the best thing that could happen is that you get to wake up next to them for the rest of your life. It’s about trust, Dean - - trusting another person with your heart. That’s what love is, Dean, and it’s what I want for you,” Sam said passionately.

Dean’s eyes filled with tears hearing his brother talk with such conviction and passion. “I want the same thing for you, Sammy.”

“Of course you do. You love me,” he said simply.

“Yeah, I do,” Dean agreed.

“A little birdie told me that Daniel invited his entire department to hang out with him by Barking Dog’s stall at the Apple Festival. And it isn’t exactly mandatory,” Sam began. “The best part is that he’s having everyone picked up so no one has to drive if they’ve had a little too much to drink. Cas’ll be there.”

“Will he?”

“Yup. I doubt Daniel will mind if Professor Novak spent some time with you,” Sam said slyly.

“I guess I’ll have to make sure to stop by and say hello.”

Sam chuckled. “It’ll be pretty hard for him to say no without making a scene in front of his boss.”

~*~

Dean arrived at the Festival at noon and parked his bike under a tree, well away from any cars. He strolled around the food court noting what was on offer before making his way to the Barking Dog Winery booth where Jack and Daniel had set up two large tables for their guests. Several bottles of Serendipity graced the tables and he saw Castiel engaged in a deep discussion with Daniel.

Dean ignored Cas for the moment as he went to say hello to Rodney, his husband, and Radek. John stood and hugged Dean, thumping his back soundly. “I got vanity plates for the Caddy,” he crowed.

“Oh?”

“Sheps76,” he announced proudly.

“How’s she running?” Dean inquired. John had called him to gush over the car right after Rodney had given it to him, but they hadn’t discussed the car since that one brief phone call.

“She’s fantastic, Dean. I think I like her better than your Impala,” John confessed.

“Well, sure. The Impala isn’t a convertible,” Dean acknowledged.

“Pull up a seat, Dean,” Radek suggested when it appeared the car talk was done.

Dean was about to decline when two loud squeals pierced his eardrums and he was nearly bowled over by two small bodies. “Uncle Dean!”

He knelt and scooped up John and Rodney’s twins, Conner and Cassidy, loudly kissing their cheeks. “What do I have here?” he asked. “A princess and her brave knight?”

“No,” Cassidy pouted. “He’s a prince and I’m the knight,” she insisted. “I’m going to rescue him. My daddy said I could.”

“You sure can, sweetheart. You can do anything you want,” Dean agreed.

Cassidy giggled and flung her arms around his neck. “You sound like my dad,” she whispered.

“Would you like to join the battle, Uncle Dean,” Conner asked. “Cassidy could rescue us both.”

“Not today, kiddo. How about I come out to the farm soon and we’ll have a joust?” he offered.

Both children agreed with enthusiasm and ran off to continue their game. As nonchalantly as possible, Dean made his way to where Cas was seated. “Hey, Daniel. Where’s your better half?”

“Probably sneaking apple donuts if I know Jack,” he said dryly. “Can I pour you a glass of wine?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m waiting to have a glass of apple wine,” he declined. He greeted everyone at the table, before turning his attention to the person he’d come to see.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean addressed the linguist, catching and holding his eyes. “I know you don’t always have time to talk to me at school, but maybe you’ll let me show you around the Festival?” Dean offered after he’d greeted everyone else at the table.

“Thank you, but, no. Doctor Jackson invited me to spend the day with him and my colleagues.”

“Go, Castiel,” Daniel suggested. “You’ll get the best treats with Dean.”

Reluctantly, Castiel agreed. As soon as they walked out of earshot, Castiel hissed, “This isn’t a date.”

“Okay,” Dean relented. “Just two friends enjoying an awesome Saturday and some good food. Deal?”

“Fine.”

“Any preference about where we start?”

“I wouldn’t mind trying some of the food,” Castiel admitted.

“Great. I did a bit of reconnaissance, so let me tell you what they have. Do you want food or dessert?”

“Let’s start with food and then get dessert.”

“Cool. They have apple pork burgers, chicken apple crepes with apple stuffing on the side, apple pancakes, potato-apple pancakes, apples and sausage kebobs or sandwiches, apple-brie polenta, apple mustard chicken, pork chops with an apple sauce, apple-cheddar fondue, and a dozen different types of apple slaw,” Dean listed.

“And for dessert?”

Apple pie, apple fritters, apple turnovers, apple cake, caramel apples, apple popcorn balls, apple cider doughnuts, baked apples with a variety of toppings, and I don’t know how many different types of applesauce and apple butters.” Dean said. “Oh, and lets not forget the apple wines and other drinks made with apples. Most of the stands that have applesauce and apple butter also sell it by the jar.”

“Alright. Now, I’m starving and I have no idea where to start,” Castiel chuckled.

“How do you feel about sharing?” Dean inquired.

“We are still talking about food, right?”

Catching Castiel’s eyes, Dean murmured, “I’d share anything with you, Cas, but yeah, right now I’m talking about food.” He noticed Castiel’s blush and thought the other man might not be so adverse to him as he tried to make out.

Lifting his chin, Castiel accepted the offer, “Sharing sounds good. That way we get to taste twice as much.”

“You’re a man after my own heart,” Dean laughed, leading the way into the heart of the food stands.

Dean was well known to all of the venders. He was also well liked. He and Bobby saw to their vehicles and their machinery. That familiarity allowed Dean to enter the back of the booths with Castiel and get samples of everything they wanted to taste for the price of a few hugs and cheek pinches. They ended up sharing the apple-brie polenta and the chicken apple crepes. Then they both had an apple pork burger, dripping with caramelized onions. For dessert they shared an enormous slice of apple cake and a plate of hot apple fritters.

They strolled over to the booth selling apple wine and were given two large glasses. Castiel sipped at his glass gingerly. “I expected it to be sweet,” he said with surprise.

“Some of it is, especially if it’s made with cider,” Dean said.

“You know a lot about wines?”

“No, not really. Just what I’ve picked up living in wine country,” Dean acknowledged. “You want to go play a game?”

“I’m not very good at carnival games.”

“That’s okay, I am. C’mon, Cas. I’ll win you a stuffed animal,” Dean teased.

The spent some time playing the type of games that could be found in carnivals across the county. When Castiel proved to be even more inept than he’d thought, he laughed at himself harder than Dean did. They walked away from the games with a huge sparkly stuffed dolphin.

They wandered over to the rides and Dean bought enough tickets to ride the Ferris wheel three times. While at the top, Dean wished this had been a date because he was tempted beyond reason to kiss Castiel.

They walked around the venders selling handcrafted items for outrageous prices, laughing at the tourists who opened their wallets. They ended up at the tent holding an Irish band. A beer vender was doing a brisk business. This might be wine country, but there were enough people who preferred beer to ensure long lines.

Dean looked around and spotted Bobby and Sammy at a table drinking beer. They were far enough from the tent and the band that they could hold a conversation without shouting. Dean wound his way through the crowds, Castiel following.

“Hey, guys. Having fun?”

“Dean. What’ve you been up to, boy?” Bobby asked.

“Eating mostly,” Dean laughed. Turning to his brother, he asked, “Where’s Sharon?”

“Showing her mom around,” Sam answered.

“Sammy, Bobby, this is Doctor Castiel Novak. Cas, this is my brother and my dad,” Dean introduced his family and the linguist.

There were handshakes all around, and for once, Sammy and Bobby were on their best behavior.

“How’s the new job going, Castiel?” Sam wanted to know.

“It’s going well, thank you. I was surprised at the caliber of students to be honest,” Castiel replied.

“Hammond is intent on making Southold a world class school,” Sam noted.

“He’s succeeding,” Castiel said.

“I heard you bought one of the new homes they put up on Wells Road,’ Bobby said.

“Yes, I did,” he answered. “They’re beautiful. I was lucky; I got the last two bedroom. They sold out pretty fast from what my realtor told me.”

“That’s what I heard also,” Bobby agreed. “You ever think about selling, see me first.”

“The old homestead too much, pops?” Dean asked with concern.

“It’s just me now. I don’t really need five bedrooms anymore, Dean.”

Dean made a noise of agreement. “You two enjoy yourselves. Give my love to Sharon,” Dean said in farewell.

“Nice to meet you both,” Castiel added.

“How does every person I meet know who I am and what I do?” Cas wondered as they walked away.

“It’s a small town, dude,” Dean observed. “Everybody’s up in everyone else’s business. Most don’t mean any harm.”

The two men went to have another glass of apple wine. Dean noticed Cas was visibly tiring and offered him a ride home. They stopped by to say goodbye to Daniel and the two people from the department that were still there.

### Interlude: Castiel

Castiel was unsure about accepting a ride home but relented when he reviewed the day. Dean had been nothing but respectful. He had been pleasantly surprised that the man had not allowed him to pay for anything.

Castiel had been expecting the Impala and was surprised when Dean stopped by a gleaming black motorcycle.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Dean asked.

“No, not at all. I’ve never seen a bike like this. What is it?”

“She’s a 1948 Vincent Black Shadow. I spent two years tracking down original parts and restoring her,” he said proudly, green eyes glowing.

The bike, gleaming black enamel with a few highly polished chrome pipes and valves, looked feral. Much like Dean himself, it seemed dangerous beneath its gorgeous veneer.

Dean handed Cas a helmet, fastened his own helmet and climbed the bike. Castiel climbed on behind him. Wrapping his arms around Dean, he could feel the bike’s power thrumming though his body. He tried to ignore how good Dean’s solid body felt against his and how natural it felt to hold him. Memories of that same body moving against his in passion filled his head.

There was quite a bit of traffic on Sound Ave. and Dean split the lane and the Shadow’s throaty purr filled the air. Even with the traffic, it was an exhilarating ride that ended far too soon.

The bike roared to a stop at the address Cas had given Dean. Castiel removed his helmet and handed it to Dean who remained straddled on the Black Shadow. “Thank you for the ride home. And for showing me around. I had a good time,” he said stiffly.

“Can I see you again, Cas?”

Looking haunted, Castiel didn’t answer immediately. “I like you, Dean. Obviously I’m attracted to you – I slept with you after knowing you for only a few hours. I just… I recently ended a relationship with a bisexual man, a man who cheated on me,” he said slowly. “I really don’t want the complication of getting involved with another bisexual man no matter how interested I may be. Truthfully, I don’t need the grief, so, no. I can’t see you again.”

Castiel was half way to his door when Dean shouted out, “I’m not giving up, Castiel, just so you know.”

He heard the bike roar away as soon as his door was opened. He put his keys down and tried not to hate the empty silence that greeted him. He’d made a mistake today. By the time Dean had left his bed back in March, Castiel was on the road to falling in love with him. Every time he’d spent any time with the mechanic, Castiel saw more to like and admire about the man. Today Cas had seen a generous, friendly, and fun loving man who embraced life to the fullest. Hell, he was even good with children, damn him. And, Castiel had walked a little further down the road to being in love.

Castiel berated himself for his stupidity. Most people that met him thought him somewhat naïve, but if anyone found out that he’d fallen most of the way in love practically at first sight like some starry eyed teenager, he knew they’d think he was also an idiot. He was sure Dean saw him as a convenient lay, albeit one that was now presenting a small challenge, and Castiel was unwilling to risk getting hurt.

Pouring himself a small brandy, Castiel turned on the television unable to bear the silence. There was a time when he had valued silence, when being alone with his thoughts was comforting rather than disquieting, as it was now. There was a time when Castiel had been content with his own company, when he didn’t yearn for the presence of a certain green-eyed man.

Castiel wished desperately to regain the peace of mind he’d lost back in March. It was something he would find himself wishing for daily in the days to come as Dean stepped up his campaign to get him to go out with him.

### Mid-October

Dean continued to ask Cas out, but the linguist turned him down every time. He was more than put out that Castiel kept turning him down. He decided to up his game and put Cas in a position where saying no wouldn’t be much of an option. Dean wouldn’t have ever considered doing this with someone that was genuinely uninterested in him, but that wasn’t the case here. Castiel didn’t want to get hurt again and that was something Dean understood all too well. He just had to prove that hurting the very attractive linguist was not on his agenda.

With that in mind, Dean strolled into the graduate class Doctor Novak taught on Tuesday evenings, and took a seat in the back of the class. He made note of Rachael Reed, a friend of Sam’s whom he’d spoon fed a series of questions to ask before the end of the class. She had been hesitant to be pulled into Dean’s plan, but when he’d offered her a free tune up and oil change, she agreed.

Dean had to hand it to Castiel; the man barely faltered when he caught sight of him.

“I see we have a guest tonight,” he noted dryly. “Mr. Winchester? Perhaps you can enlighten us as to when the last speaker of Proto-Indo-European may have lived?”

“That’s a trick question, Professor. PIE is largely a reconstructed language, so we don’t really know when PIE diverged, therefore your question is impossible to answer,” Dean replied, glad that he’d taken the time to question Rachael about what they were currently working on in the class and to read through the material she’d lent him.

Visibly annoyed, Castiel dropped his notes to glare at Dean. “Why are you here, Mr. Winchester?”

Running a nervous hand over the back of his neck, Dean’s face softened. “How about you ask me that at the end of class, Doctor Novak?”

Castiel sighed and proceeded to ignore Dean for the rest of the class. He didn’t see his gorgeous green eyes light up in interest at the lecture. He didn’t see Dean scribbling notes, or nodding his head in agreement at certain key points. He didn’t see Dean’s beautifully plump lips turn up in small smiles. And, he most definitely did not see Dean’s hot gaze follow him wherever he went.

There was fifteen minutes left in the class when Rachel Reed raised her hand. “Yes, Miss Reed? You have a question?”

“Yes, Professor. Dean said to ask him at the end of the class why he was here,” she started, turning to look at Dean. “So, y’know, why are you here, Dean?”

“I’m here because Doctor Novak keeps running away from me every time I ask him out. And worse? He keeps turning me down. I figure he’s a captive audience here,” Dean answered swiftly before Castiel could stop him. “What do you say, Cas? Please, go out with me?”

Melissa Goldberg, a quiet, intense dark haired woman in her thirties, exclaimed, “Oh. My. God. That is so romantic.”

Shooting Melissa a dark, hostile glare that promised punishment, Castiel tried to say no. “I really don’t think this is the time…”

“Aw, Professor, give the guy a chance.”

“Hey, Doc, you could do a lot worse!”

“Come on, Professor, it’s not every day someone as hot as Dean is willing to make an ass of himself.”

The chorus of student voices was loud and encouraging.

“Fine,” he managed to bite out. “One date. And then you leave me alone.”

“Done. Provided you don’t enjoy yourself,” Dean snapped back with a grin. “Saturday, one PM, wear jeans and bring a jacket and your appetite.” He strolled out of the room, savoring his victory and intending on making the most of it.

~*~

Dean took a rare Saturday off with Bobby’s full approval. Well, that was maybe pushing things a bit, Dean thought. Bobby’s actual words had been, “Lock that guy up, boy, and get your head back in the game. I’m tired of you walking around like someone’s kicked your puppy.”

He slept till nine, ate a leisurely breakfast, showered and ran his errands. It was his bad luck to run into Rodney and John at the Barking Dog Winery. His unusual dating technique had made the rounds throughout the college. Daniel and Jack were laughing at his audacity and Rodney slapped his head. “How about you call him and ask him out the next time? Hammond stopped by my office and asked if we were working you too hard.”

“Yeah, that didn’t work out so well. I had to resort to more desperate measures.”

Still chuckling, Daniel put the bottle of Legend into a wine sack. “A gift from me. A little thank you for providing more gossip than the Anthropology Department has seen in some time.”

“Uh, is that a problem?”

“Not at all. The last time the department had this kind of gossip was the night I met Jack,” Daniel revealed, shooting Jack a steamy look.

John laughed, “Do you remember Rodney asking if a particular glass had been modeled on Madame de Pompadour’s breasts?” He looked over at his husband, who was blushing.

“I do,” Daniel answered. “I was very glad he took the focus off of Jack and me.”

“Stop,” Rodney demanded. “I know you all think it’s hysterical, but it was a serious question. And I was trying to impress someone with my vast knowledge.”

Dean had the feeling he was missing a number of in jokes as well as witnessing some fairly private moments. He thanked Daniel, and made his way to the Pavilion, the event venue at the winery to pick up the lunch he’d asked Winsome to cater for him. Winsome generally found herself far too busy to cater anything outside Jack’s event venue, but she sometimes made exceptions.

He found her in the kitchen, rushing around barking orders. Dean had done a stint as a waiter at the Pavilion and was familiar with Winsome’s brash personality and sharp tongue, as well as her soft, marshmallow core. Her face softened as she caught sight of Dean. She rushed over and engulfed him in a hug. “Just as gorgeous as ever, I see,” she teased.

“Not gorgeous enough to take you away from that big guy you married,” Dean teased her back.

“Maybe if you were ten years older,” she laughed. “I’ve given you the good Bento boxes, so I want them back,” she instructed, handing over two eloquent red and black lacquer boxes and two loaves of bread packed in cloth bread bags.

“Thanks for this, Winsome.”

“No worries, cutie. You bring Castiel to meet me, that’ll be thanks enough,” she said slyly.

“Christ. Does everyone know about my date?”

“I’m pretty sure there are some people on the Fiji Islands that haven’t heard,” Winsome mocked. “Stop bitching because people care about you.”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not because my sex life has always been a topic for discussion, it’s because they care,” Dean complained.

Winsome laughed again. “Stop giving people a reason to talk then,” she advised.

“I’m working on it,” he said, stooping slightly to kiss her cheek.

~*~

Dean pulled up to Castiel’s home exactly on time. It was a typical mid autumn day: the sun was golden, the skies were an impossible deep blue with a few puffy white clouds scattered here and there. It was a bit too warm in the sun and a bit too chilly in the shade. Dean could smell the salt of the ocean and the earthy, gritty scent of freshly turned and watered soil, and the sharp, bitter tang of apple cider. If he breathed deeply enough, he could smell the scent of cut grass, and the yeasty smell of bread and wine rooms, and underneath it all the slight aroma of horses.

The leaves were just starting to turn, splashes of vivid red, and vibrant yellows and orange sprinkled within the green. The pumpkins and the gourds and sunflowers and Gerber daisies added their own color as did the seasonal flags and banners that hung from every home and snapped every so often in the sea breezes.

The vineyards were giving up the last of their fruit and the farm stands had autumn vegetables and flowers arranged in all their fresh ripeness and they made for tempting displays. On the drive over, Dean could hear the strains of music coming from the live bands hired by the various wineries as they competed for business, along with the chittering of birds, and the occasional harsh cry of a hawk or the mournful, lonely caws of seagulls.

This was Dean’s favorite time of the year. It was nature’s last show before the cold and the snows and biting winds and fierce Nor’easters arrived. In winter, the fields lay fallow and barren, and the skies were more often gray than blue, and the water in the Sound was temperamental rather than inviting. But, autumn? It was full blown and ripe and pagan and invigorating. He was thrilled to be sharing it with Castiel.

Castiel got into the Impala with a scowl on his face. He was dressed in jeans, a soft black button down shirt, sneakers, and he had a denim jacket thrown over an arm. His hair looked much as it always did; like he’d just gotten out of bed, and he was freshly shaved. He’d splashed on something reminiscent of sandalwood, and smelled unbearable sexy.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” Dean apologized before Cas could say a word.

“You didn’t. You did put me on the spot, however. Again. Which was your intention.”

“Yeah,” Dean admitted sheepishly. “You didn’t leave me much choice though.”

“You don’t take rejection well, do you?”

“I take rejection just fine, Cas. But, you admitted you were interested. I’m not the jerk who cheated on you. I think you should judge me on my own merits,” Dean said.

“No, you’re not Alan, but from everything I’ve heard you are rather promiscuous.”

“That may be true, but I’m also loyal. I’ve never cheated on anyone. And, it might interest you to know; I haven’t been with anyone since March. I’m just asking for a chance here.”

Castiel relaxed against the leather seat. “That’s fair,” he acknowledged. “Where are we going, anyway?”

Feeling the tension in the car dissipate, Dean also relaxed as he started to drive. “To one of the best kept secrets on the East End, Dragon’s Nest.”

“What is a Dragon’s Nest?”

“It’s actually the Dragon’s Nest. It’s - - well, how about you wait and see? I’ll tell you about Kathy White instead,” Dean said.

“I’ll bite. Who’s Kathy White?”

“Kathy is a local artist. You know the massive painting in the library?”

“The one with the castle and the dragon?”

“That’s the one. That’s Kathy’s work. She and her husband bought Dragon’s Nest about thirty years ago. He died five years after they bought the place, and he left her the property and 50 million dollars. It was quite the scandal at the time; he’d divorced his first wife to marry Kathy when she was eighteen,” Dean related. “The old man was around sixty. The kids fought her tooth and nail in court. They wanted everything and would’ve left her a pauper.”

“Obviously they didn’t get Dragon’s Nest. Did they get the money?” Castiel wanted to know.

“Well, since he left them homes all over the world and they each got 100 million apiece, Kathy got to keep Dragon’s Nest and the money,” Dean said with a smile. “The greedy bastards got laughed out of court.”

“So, you’re taking me to meet Kathy?” Castiel asked in confusion.

“You’ll get to meet her, but that isn’t the reason we’re going.”

“And that’s the part I have to wait and see?” Cas guessed.

“Yup. But I promise it’ll be worth it, Cas. The good news is, we’re here,” Dean announced.

Dean drove to the front entrance of a large, sprawling Spanish style house. A petite woman was waiting on the porch. Dean pulled the car past the entrance and parked.

Kathy greeted him with a fierce embrace, her tiny, slim figure engulfed by Dean. “Dean Winchester! It’s been far too long,” she chided him.

“I know, Kathy. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetie. I know how busy you’ve been. Come into the house for a few minutes and you can introduce your friend to me,” she ordered.

Dean grabbed his jacket and the large tote containing the bento boxes, the bread, and the wine. “C’mon, Cas.”

Kathy led them into the spacious kitchen. “Now, who do we have here?”

“Kathy, this is Doctor Castiel Novak. Cas, this is Kathy White,” Dean said.

“Pleased to meet you Ms. White,” Castiel said, right hand reaching out for a handshake.

Kathy’s grey eyes narrowed, and she tossed her chestnut brown braid over her shoulder. “It’s Kathy, Castiel. And, if you’re a friend of Dean’s, well, you know the rest,” she said as she gave Cas a brief hug. “Now, tell me a little about yourself. What do you do?”

“I’m a linguists professor at the college,” Castiel replied. “I specialize in ancient languages.”

“So, smart and pretty.”

Dean laughed as Castiel blushed.

“Where did you grow up?”

“I grew up Greenwich, Connecticut. I’m one of six children. I went to Yale and did my graduate work at Harvard, much to my father’s horror. Um, and I taught at NYU before coming to Southold,” Cas disclosed.

“And how are you adjusting to living in a semi rural environment?”

“I love it here. It’s - - different than the city, of course, but it also feels…  
more authentic,” Cas said simply.

“I know just how you feel, sweetie,” Kathy approved. “I won’t keep you boys any longer, but before you go, I have a gift for you,” she declared. She handed over a small box, and a small crock. “You’ve got six jars of Dragon’s Gold, a jar of clotted cream, and a crock of fresh sweet butter.”

“The bees are okay then?” Dean asked.

“Oh, my, yes. This was a particularly good year.”

“Thank you, Kathy.”

“My pleasure, sweetie. And, thank you for finally keeping your promise. I was starting to worry that the day would never come,” she said squeezing Dean’s arm. “Feel free to walk around as long as you’d like; all the photographers are gone by now. You can leave through the side yard when you’re ready.”

“Excellent. I’ll call you next week,” Dean said meaningfully.

“Make sure you do, Dean, or I’ll have to hunt your ass down,” she laughed.

With his hand on the small of Castiel’s back, Dean guided him toward the back door. They stepped out into the comfortable backyard and through a green door embedded into a stone wall. And stepped into a world of fantasy.

They walked onto a cobblestone path that wove its way through a large and lush nearly overgrown garden. An iron fence, barely seen and covered in vines and climbing roses encircled the whole of the garden. The path led to the back and nearly fifteen acres that spread before them with several stands of mature trees. To their right on the back edge of the property lie at least two full acres of wild flowers.

Part of the land was well cultivated and Castiel could see three garden follies; the closest, just ahead, looked like Greek or Roman temple ruins overgrown with ivy, one a bit further away was reminiscent of a Gothic style church and looked suitably brooding with its gargoyles perched atop the corners of the roof, and the other was a tower that could have come out of one of Grimm’s fairy tales. Looking further, he thought he could see other buildings. There was a stone path leading toward the first folly, surrounded by knee-high grasses.

“There are more? Under the trees and in the breaks I see?” Castiel asked.

“Yes, lots more. Some of the follies are built to be ruins, but most of them are actual buildings. There’s also a rather large pond, a number of water elements, a grotto, and all of the paths are laid out in stone. There’s about three acres on the side of the house where the stables are. Kathy’s got miniature donkeys and horses.”

“How do you know about this place, Dean?”

“When Bobby opened the garage, business was slow at first, so he took odd jobs whenever he could. He’s been building stuff for Kathy for a long time now. Sam and I used to help. I laid out quite a lot of the stone paths,” Dean explained.

“Weren’t you both quite young?”

“I didn’t help with the footpaths until I was about fifteen. I was pretty big and strong. When we were younger, we helped with building the follies. Bobby’s pretty handy, and he taught us to be handy. Kathy’s been working on this for a long time,” Dean said.

“What did she mean about the photographers?”

“We get a lot of wedding business out here. Taking wedding photos at Dragon’s Nest has become very popular if you have the money. She rents the place out to three couples at a time to the tune of 500 bucks per couple for two hours.”

“Seriously?” Castiel said in shock.

“Yeah, I’m so serious,” Dean laughed. “C’mon, let’s go eat lunch, Doctor Novak.”

A brisk five-minute walk along one of the stone paths leading into a stand of large weeping willows took them to a small round temple like folly in a circular clearing. The folly was columned and open to the sky, and the marble glowed a warm white. Dozens of wind chimes were hidden among the tree branches, their clear bell like tones adding to the unreality of the scene.

“Is that a unicorn?” Castiel laughed.

Dean knew that a life size unicorn, poised to run was peeking out from one of the trees. “I think there’s four of them scattered around, along with a Pegasus. I don’t know if we’ll get to see it today, but Sammy and I helped Kathy build a giant nest and she filled it with baby dragons,” Dean said. “Sammy thought she was a witch for the longest time. A good witch, filled with magic.”

“I can see why,” Castiel said.

They climbed the shallow steps of the folly to find a beautifully laid table, complete with wine glasses, dishes, silverware, and linen napkins that matched the tablecloth. The chairs had plump cushions and were designed for comfort. The table was big enough to seat four, but in the setting, felt intimate.

Dean set his bag down on one of the chairs and reached first for the wine. He opened the bottle of Legend and poured a glass for himself and one for Castiel. “This is one of Barking Dog’s signature wines. I’m more of a beer or whiskey man myself, but this is probably the best wine to be found on the East End.”

Castiel sniffed at the wine in appreciation, and then tasted it. Castiel knew wine. He’d been brought up learning to appreciate everything about it, and to his family, good wine meant French or Italian. “This is amazing,” he said.

“There’s a reason Jack’s taken about every award out there with Legend. After the original owner, Joe Cacciatore died, he left the winery to Jack. He hired a girl from Joe’s hometown in Sicily and Legend is her baby,” Dean said with pride.

“Daniel and Jack seem like a great couple. Not that I got time to spend with him at the Apple Festival. I wasn’t expecting to be shanghaied.”

“They are a great couple. They had a commitment ceremony a while back. They were gonna wait for New York to pass the laws, but they decided to go up to Boston to make it legal. And, I’m not going to apologize for showing you a good time at the Festival,” he said grinning.

Dean began unpacking their meal. He opened up the bento boxes, pleased with everything. “Looks like lobster salad, a mixed salad, a couple of different cheeses, avocado slices, apple and pear slices, and grapes. There’s also a loaf of pumpernickel bread and a loaf of honey wheat. We can save some of the bread and the cheese and the fruit to go along with the honey for dessert. Sound good?”

“Yes, actually it sounds delicious.”

Dean dished out the food onto the plates, splitting the generous portions evenly. He arranged the cheese and fruit on a separate plate. They clinked their glasses and dug into the food, which was well seasoned by the cool breeze and the wine. They ate slowly, savoring the simple meal.

“What did you promise Kathy,” Castiel asked.

“That’s sort of private, Cas. If you have a good time today, I’ll tell you, okay?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“You weren’t.”

“Did you prepare this meal?”

Laughing, Dean replied, “No. I probably could, but I don’t have a lot of free time right now. Between school and work, cooking anything more complicated than scrambled eggs isn’t exactly on the agenda right now. But, I do like to cook, and I’m pretty good at it.”

“Where you’d get this then?”

And Dean began telling him about Winsome and the various jobs he’d had throughout the years, and how he’d always gravitated back to Bobby’s garage. Castiel told him about his childhood in more detail in return, including how he’d fought with his parents when he decided not to go for a business or law degree.

Soon enough they were discussing more personal things, both important and inconsequential. Dean opened up to Castiel, talking about his childhood dreams and the reasons he’d decided to go back to school, and how much he loved his family. He didn’t say anything about John, or how Bobby had essentially stolen him and Sam not wanting Cas to pity him. Dean hoped there would be time for that in the future.

Everything else was open for discussion though. Dean made a real effort to put aside his fears about appearing vulnerable. His real fear was that once someone got to know the real him, they’d no longer be interested. People always wanted something from him; to hang out with him because they thought he was cool, or to sleep with him because he was good looking, or just to add him to their conquest list. But, the more he talked, the more interested Castiel appeared to be. And in return, Cas opened up to him.

After their meal was finished, Dean opened the six varieties of Dragon’s Gold, and encouraged Cas to try them all. His personal favorite was the habanera. It had a bit of heat to go with the sweetness and tasted wonderful with the mild flavor of the Brie and the apples. Castiel tasted all the honey before declaring the habanera his favorite as well.

They packed up after they couldn’t eat another bite, leaving the tote to be collected after their tour of the property. “The dragon’s nest is at the back of the property. Do you still want to see it?”

“I would. Would we have to miss anything else?”

“I was planning on taking you on a boat ride around the pond, but if we skip that we can see everything else. It’s up to you,” Dean offered.

“I’d really like to see the nest.”

“Okay. Let’s go exploring Doctor Novak.”

And that’s just what they did. The partial walls that had gothic windows inset within them and the tiny cottages that seemed designed for the fairy folk enchanted Cas. The partial walls were made with stone or brick as were some of the buildings. The folly where they had eaten and the first one seen from Kathy’s backyard were actual ruins from antiquity, bought long ago by an adoring husband happy to indulge his young wife.

There were a number of towers that the two men climbed, looking out through the tall, narrow windows. Cas threw coins in every fountain, refusing to tell Dean his wishes. And they visited the dragon’s nest, made with sturdy twigs. The nest held eight dragons in various stages of hatching, overseen by a sweet-faced dragon.

They skirted the pond and the temple folly that could only be easily reached by the small rowboat. The surface of the pond was placid and dragonflies could be seen buzzing around alighting on the pond’s surface every now and then.

“I could almost believe that everything comes alive at night,” Cas whispered.

The whole place is strung with fairy lights, Cas. It’s magical. Kathy used to let me camp here when I was a kid. It’s one of my best memories,” Dean related, equally quiet.

They left the shelter of the trees and headed for the tiny gothic church. Castiel hadn’t been able to see it from a distance, but a dragon was wrapped around the bottom of the building, it’s fierce gaze challenging anyone that came near. The area surrounding the church was planted with both flowers and herbs and was slightly wild and overgrown, adding to the overall fantasy. Ornate stone benches were set at the corners of the garden, and a water element overgrown with vines sat in the middle.

Dean led Cas into the church. “It isn’t consecrated, but it has ribbed arches and the pews and altar are from the time period. The stained glass is all reproductions as are the statuary,” Dean explained.

“It’s beautiful, Dean. Thank you for showing this to me.”

“There’s one more place I’d like to show you if you don’t mind missing the real ruin.”

“Lead on. I’ve seen enough ruins in my life.”

They walked toward the area where they’d eaten lunch, but instead of going toward the back of the property, which is how they had originally began, Dean led them straight to the right edge of the property. And nestled against the dark grey stone wall was a grotto. Dark blue water filled the small area.

A shallow man-made cave protruded from the wall and the entire area was filled with shade and moisture loving plants. The trees surrounding the grotto were adorned with hundreds of tiny bells, and the occasional shaft of sunlight sparkled off their surfaces. Every breeze elicited their ringing, the sound amplified by the cave like setting. Large, moss covered rocks were scattered around and a simple round water feature threw a stream of water straight into the air. The sound of the water as it spilled back into the grotto was soothing and rhythmic. A stone railing with a wide top suitable for sitting lined the front of the grotto.

Cas grabbed Dean’s hand and muscled him against the railing. He cupped Dean’s throat, thumb stroking against his pulse and leaned in for a kiss.

Dean groaned and deepened the kiss, hands feeling the play of Castiel’s back muscles.

“So, do I get a second date?” Dean asked brokenly.

“Yes, damn it, you do,” Castiel teased. “And a third and a fourth, and a…”

Dean cut him off with another kiss, taking his time to taste Cas. He broke off the kiss to ask, “Do you still wanna know what I promised Kathy?”

“I do.”

“I promised her that when I fell in love, I’d bring that person to meet her. I made good on that promise today,” Dean whispered, laying his heart at Castiel’s feet.

“You’ve never brought anyone here before?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“I think I want to start that second date right now, Dean.”

“Yeah, Cas. Sounds like a plan.”

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Cimmie for the inspired name of Dragon’s Gold Honey and to QuinGem for answering a few vital questions about bee keeping and honey yield. And a major thank you to Astroskylark, who remains my inspiration in life and the best daughter anyone could ask for.


End file.
